


Fault

by notzemo (orphan_account)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, I'm Sorry, M/M, Mention of Death, but i just, i think, i'm sorry I know this is a trash ship, idk how to tag this, implied suicidal tendencies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 12:19:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7222087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/notzemo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Zemo is in a prison in Wakanda, and T'Challa tries to talk to him.<br/>(Also, I reccomend reading this while listening to Ophelia by The Lumineers)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fault

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone likes this I might make this have more chapters, so please tell me what you think!  
> Also, if anyone has any suggestions or feedback, please do tell me!!

T'Challa sat down on the floor, the cold making him shiver. He straightened his back and crossed his arms. Tilting his head, he locked his eyes on the man in front of him. He watched him move back and forth, at first looking at T’Challa with an uneasy expression, then nuisance, then anger. His footsteps were the only noise in the empty halls. He stopped after a long time. T’Challa seemed to have been able to get under his skin. 

Zemo look at him, and he could see more pain than fury in the prisoner’s eyes. The dark circles and pale skin denoted his lack of sleep, and the king almost felt pity for him. Guilt tried to creep up on him, but he ignored it. No, it wasn’t his fault. He tried to help him, but all the man did was destroy himself. You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.  

“Why are you doing this?” the sokovian asked, finally breaking the silence, his eyes never leaving T’Challa’s.

"You refuse to get out of your cell," T'Challa started, half answering the question and half dismissing it. "You haven't eaten in two days. Every attempt to get you to do anything ended in a fight."

Zemo lowered his head, his hands in a fist. "I'm not hungry," he said with a somber voice. 

"You know that's not the reason," T'Challa said. His calm tone always unnerved Zemo. T'Challa knew that, and used that to his advantage whenever possible. Zemo always talked when he was annoyed, which was useful.

The prisoner sat down on the floor, right in front of T'Challa, who still hadn't let him out of sight. He looked at the man across the prison bars that separated them. "You should have let me die," Zemo said, pain and anger filling his voice, and even though he'd never let it show, a part of T'Challa was destroyed whenever he heard those words. 

"You do not deserve to die,” he tried to say, but the other man cut him off.

"I do not deserve to live!" Zemo snapped, fire in his voice. "Why must you prolong my suffering? Why does this have to be my punishment?"

T’Challa couldn’t help but think that maybe he was right. Maybe Zemo deserved to have the death he so wanted to have. He shook his head, trying to end his doubts. "The living aren't done with you yet," was all he could say.

Zemo was so tired of hearing those words. T'Challa said them so many times, Zemo wasn't even sure what they meant anymore. 

"Who? Who could possibly need me?" 

His words were bit too loud, too aggressive, and echoed in the silence. He didn’t mean for them to come out, but what is done is done, he thought. T'Challa lowered his head, and Zemo couldn't tell if he was hurt or not. Though it would be nice to see him not be so calm, he never wanted to hurt T'Challa. It was weird, Zemo thought. He wanted to hate the man, but he couldn’t. He had nothing against him. All T’Challa ever did to hurt him was take care of him.  

So when T'Challa got up and said 'me', Zemo felt something inside of him break.


End file.
